Chapter 495 The Body Not Found

Chapter 495 The Body Not Found
(Caelum Ashborne) 

The food before him had long since begun to cool. He hadn't touched a single bite. Around him, the council carried on as though nothing remarkable had happened. Discussions drifted effortlessly between harvest projections from the lower caverns, troop rotations along the eastern marches and repairs to the southern fortifications where another section of volcanic shelf had collapsed into the magma rivers below. Crystal goblets rose and fell. Quiet laughter surfaced here and there before disappearing beneath the comfortable rhythm of a family that had shared this table for generations. 
Cael heard almost none of it. Every ounce of his concentration had narrowed to one impossible task. 
Do not look at her. Do not comfort her. Do not let father see. 
It sounded laughably simple. It wasn't. She sat less than ten paces away. He knew exactly where without needing to look. He could feel her. The bond refused to grant him the mercy of distance. 
Her emotions drifted quietly across the connection, softened by the restraint they both instinctively maintained, yet impossible to mistake. Confusion had arrived first, sharp and bewildered in the instant he'd eased her embrace away. That confusion had slowly given way to embarrassment, then humiliation, each emotion settling heavier than the last until it rested inside his own chest like a stone he couldn't dislodge. 
She thought she'd done something wrong. 
Gods... She thought he had been embarrassed by her. 
His jaw tightened. If they had been anywhere else... The crystal caverns. The library. The forest. Anywhere but here... He would have crossed the room without hesitation. He would have cupped her face between his hands, smiled that smile she somehow always managed to pull from him, and told her exactly what she needed to hear. 
You did nothing wrong. You have nothing to apologise for. I'd let you hold me a thousand times if it meant seeing that smile again. 
Instead... He couldn't even look at her. Because if he did, he wasn't entirely certain his face would remain under his control. 
His fingers tightened imperceptibly around the stem of his goblet. The memory of her arms around him refused to leave. She had crossed an entire council chamber without a second thought. Not because he was important. Not because she wished to make a statement. Simply because she'd been relieved he had kept his promise. The warmth of that simple trust still lingered against his skin. It made what he'd done next feel all the more unforgivable. 
Across the bond, another wave of quiet shame brushed against him. 
Cael closed his eyes for the briefest moment. 
Please don't believe that. 
The thought never left his mind. He couldn't risk sending it. He couldn't risk looking at her long enough for her to read the truth in his expression, not after what his father had said. 
The words returned with cruel clarity, as though no more than moments had passed since they had been spoken. 
"You didn't tell her who you are?" 
Cael's grip tightened around the goblet until the crystal creaked softly beneath his fingers. The dining chamber dissolved around him. 
And once again... He found himself standing in the great library. 
The library still smelled of old parchment and polished cedar. The last of the servants had disappeared only moments earlier, following Tomathican as he escorted Adelaide towards her chambers. Their footsteps faded steadily down the corridor until the palace settled once more into comfortable silence. 
Cael remained where he was. He watched until the last glimpse of her vanished beyond the doorway. 
Only then did he allow himself to breathe. She was home. The thought had carried him through every impossible mile across Hell. Every lie. Every battle. Every compromise. Whatever came next, she was home. 
Strong arms wrapped suddenly around his shoulders. For a heartbeat, his body reacted before his mind did, muscles tensing instinctively towards violence before the familiar scent of smoke, leather and emberfire reached him. 
His father. 
Arkael laughed quietly, tightening the embrace before finally releasing him. 
"You've grown strong." 
There was pride in his voice. Real pride. 
He stepped back, both hands settling upon Cael's shoulders as though trying to study the man his son had become. 
"I scarcely recognised you when you those doors finally opened." 
Cael smiled despite himself. "I wasn't expecting a welcome committee." 
"I imagine not." Arkael's grin lingered another moment before his expression softened. "You've done well." 
The words landed somewhere deep inside Cael's chest. Nine centuries. Nine hundred years since he'd heard anything close to them. He hadn't realised how desperately he'd wanted to. 
"I only finished what you began." 
"No." Arkael shook his head gently. "You survived where I could not. You adapted. You earned the Devil's trust." His eyes searched Cael's face with unmistakable admiration. "You brought our Queen home." 
For one impossible moment... Cael was a child again. Standing beneath towering obsidian pillars while his father corrected his sword stance. Learning to control flames that had barely answered his call. Listening to stories of honour, sacrifice and duty until he'd believed no man in all of Hell stood taller than Arkael. 
He hadn't realised how much of that boy still lived inside him. 
Then Arkael's expression changed. Not dramatically. Only enough for the warmth to leave his eyes. 
"You didn't tell her who you are." 
It wasn't a question. 
Cael's smile faded. "No." 
"Why?" 
He hesitated. "Apollo spoke of Grandfather." 
Arkael remained silent. 
"He told her enough about Vaelor that..." Cael exhaled slowly. "If I'd admitted we were related, she would've questioned everything I'd told her. At that point..." He shook his head. "I couldn't afford to lose what little trust she'd begun to place in me." 
For several long moments Arkael simply regarded him. Then he nodded once. 
"A sensible decision." 
Relief loosened something inside Cael. It lasted only a moment. He should have recognised how dangerous that relief was. 
"The battle?" 
Arkael moved towards one of the towering shelves, running his fingers idly along the spines of ancient books. 
"I expected resistance. And there was." 
"But not enough?" 
"No." 
Arkael's smile returned. 
"The reports suggested the Spire collapsed beautifully." 
"It did." 
"And Apollo?" Cael's chest tightened almost imperceptibly. 
"He was caught inside." 
"The Devil is dead then?" 
It wasn't phrased as hope. Nor celebration. Simply conclusion. 
Cael lowered his eyes. He remembered Adelaide collapsing as Apollo's scream had torn through the bond, remembered her refusing to leave, remembered the agony that had nearly broken her. 
If Apollo had truly died... She would have known. She would have felt his soul leave her own. 
"No body was recovered," Arkael answered dismissively with a wave of his hand. "The battlefield buried him beneath half the Spire."